Future Dreams, Past Nightmares
by milady dragon
Summary: Jack Harkness has everything he's ever wanted: he's mortal again, married to the man he loves, and it's his only daughter's wedding day. He only has one problem...he can't remember the last twenty-five years of his life.
1. Chapter 1

Future Dreams, Past Nightmares - Chapter One

Author: Milady Dragon

Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, sorry.

Author's note: Yes, I know I should be starting the next Dragon-Verse saga, but this has been sitting around begging to be posted here. I wrote this for the Torchwood Classic Big Bang over on Livejournal, and I hope you enjoy it! It's seven parts and an epilogue, and is finished. I should be posting a chapter a night.

* * *

**Chapter One**

He awoke slowly, almost painfully. There was something wrong with his head, but he couldn't say what; large dark holes lay where memory had been, and those holes threatened to swallow him.

But he fought against that gravitic pull, and opened his eyes…well, on the third try the lids pried apart reluctantly, revealing a shadowed ceiling above him. Turning his head slowly, he looked at his surroundings, hoping to find something familiar to help battle the emptiness in his skull.

This was obviously a bedroom, with pale walls that could have been white…or maybe blue, it was hard to tell. Dark furniture blocked out the light walls, like looming singularities. Oh, he knew what a singularity was. That was good.

But he was having a little problem with his name.

Maybe that would come to him, once he was up and moving. The problem with that was, he didn't want to. The mental holes in his head weighed more than the rest of his brain and threatened to keep him firmly planted in bed – yes, he was in a bed, and quite a comfortable one at that. Perhaps if he went back to sleep, his memory would return…

There was a sudden light, and he squinted his eyes to protect them from the horrible glare. He wanted to cringe away from it, but didn't move.

"Good morning," came a cheerful voice from another area of the room. "It's time to get up; it's going to be a busy day for both of us.

There was an accent to the voice; was it Welsh? Yes, he knew what Wales was, too. Wales and singularities. How odd.

More light came into the room, as well as a sliding sound that he identified as curtains being pulled open. He moaned slightly, hating the brightness. Whoever this was, they were determined to get him up.

The bed dipped, and a face entered into his line of sight. At first it was a simple silhouette; but after a few seconds of getting used to the light he could make out blue eyes, nice cheekbones, and an upturned nose. Everything was framed with dark hair, lightly dusted with grey.

He took his breath away. Whoever this was, he was simply stunning.

The smile the man was wearing faded as he looked into his face. "Jack? What's wrong?"

Jack? Yes, that was it…

"I'm…not feeling all that well this morning," he answered, almost against his will. "I have a…bit of a headache."

A warm hand touched his forehead. "You're not running a fever. Maybe you slept wrong? Or should I have a word with Owen about keeping the old man out late at night anymore?" The last bit was said teasingly.

Jack recognized that name…Owen. He wondered who that was, exactly. A friend? Must have been, if he was prone to being out late with the person. "Might not be a bad idea," he confessed. Maybe that was why he couldn't remember?

Now the man was looking worried. "You must not be feeling well, if you're not coming back at me about calling you old. Let me get you something for the headache. Stay there." With that, he was up and heading toward a door Jack just noticed, that apparently led to an en-suite.

In seconds, he was back, holding a single tablet and a glass of water. "Here you go," he said, handing them to Jack. "Then maybe you'll feel better after a shower. I'd join you, but I need to get breakfast on, and Owen will be round here in a bit. Sorry, Jack, but you can't be a slug-a-bed today, of all days." He smiled, touching his forehead once more. Then he leaned over and brushed his lips across Jack's, which felt very right.

Once he was alone, Jack – yes, he was absolutely certain that was his name – set the glass and whatever medication the man had given him onto a side table then attempted to climb out of bed. Jack didn't know the man, even though he knew he should, and while he was certain the stranger had his best interests at heart he just wasn't sure about taking something if he didn't know what it was. The man had seemed genuinely bothered by the idea of him being ill.

He was getting the feeling that he'd known that Welshman for a long time.

Jack just wished he could remember the man's name.

It took him two tries to get to his feet, and when he did Jack swayed slightly before he regained his equilibrium. The hardwood floor was cool under his bare feet as he made his uncertain way to the bathroom, taking what seemed like hours to get there.

He stood in front of the sink, and looked at the image staring back at him from it. It…seemed familiar, with its blue eyes and smooth features, but something was slightly off…perhaps it was the greying at the temples, or the lines crinkling the corners of those eyes. He couldn't put his finger on it at all, and it was almost as bothersome as not knowing who he truly was.

A quick rooting through the medicine cabinet revealed nothing much except the usual aspirin, deodorant, and such…and a prescription bottle, made out in the name of Ianto Harkness-Jones, for something called Disopyramide. Jack had it back on the shelf before realizing something else, and he looked at it once more.

The prescription renewal date was March 2034.

Jack stared at the bottle. That didn't seem right. He was pretty certain the date was wrong, but didn't know how he knew that. He couldn't remember a thing; the holes in his memory had swallowed it all. Just thinking about it made his head pound even harder.

The name though…Ianto Harkness-Jones. Somehow he knew his last name was Harkness, and if it was part of that man's as well…yes, Ianto did seem right. He glanced down at his hand, seeing the gold band on his finger. Ianto was his spouse? Yes, he thought that must be true. He just wished he could remember the actual wedding.

The shower seemed to wipe some of the cobwebs away, but Jack still had the nagging feeling that things weren't right. Some of his earliest memories were coming back: Torchwood; some sort of alien invasion; his team. Ianto. Owen, Tosh, and Gwen. Rhys. The Doctor and Rose.

But he didn't remember his own wedding. Or anything that had happened yesterday, let alone a week or even a year ago.

It didn't make sense.

Jack finished his shower, then got dressed in what he hoped was his clothes. As he did he took a good look around the bedroom, trying to jog something loose. It was a combination of styles, which he had to assume was from both himself and Ianto. He found a picture: it was of him and Ianto, and a young woman with long brown hair and blue eyes. She looked remarkably like the both of them.

A daughter?

He guessed it had been him to carry her, because was no way a surrogate could deliver a child that would resemble them both so closely. What had happened to his vow never to do that again?

He could remember that vow, but he couldn't remember her.

There was also a wedding picture. He and Ianto looked so happy. Jack cursed; he wanted so badly to remember this one thing, to have that memory come back to him. Those memories were precious, and he shouldn't have lost them.

He was much younger in the photo, and something prodded him hazily that he shouldn't, in fact, look any older. That he couldn't, in fact, age. But he'd seen his reflection, seen the grey and the crows' feet.

Of course, that was what was wrong.

Jack was immortal.

How could he have forgotten that? It had been who he was for so long, for centuries…and yet, it was obvious that he was, indeed, aging at what seemed to be a normal, human rate. How was that possible? The reason had to be bound up in his lost memories, and his heart soared at the idea of being mortal again. He prayed that it was true, that somehow he'd been rid of the curse that had plagued him for a vast majority of his existence.

More pictures were scattered around the room. One was of him holding a baby, looking up into the camera and grinning widely. There was another of Jack with a man he immediately recognized as Owen, and a smaller one of his Torchwood team, at what looked like a pub.

The more he saw, though, the more alarmed Jack became. He really was apparently missing a very large chunk of his life, and with no apparent reason for the sudden-onset amnesia, because no bender he could have had with Owen could explain it. What could have caused it? An injury? If he truly was a normal man once more, then he wouldn't have healed as quickly as he would have if he was immortal.

Ianto hadn't mentioned anything and had, in fact acted like everything was all right, at least until Jack had claimed not to feel well. Could it be something other than physical? Maybe a piece of alien tech that had come through the Rift?

And he remembered the Rift as well. That was good.

Jack guessed that the headache was a symptom. Perhaps he should ask Owen when he saw him? That might be a good idea…

Well, there really was nothing he could do right now. He'd have to face this world and deal with things as they happened. For some reason he didn't want to worry Ianto about it.

As soon as he came to that decision, Jack left the bedroom. He found himself in a hallway, with other doors on either side. He headed down toward what looked like stairs, and without hesitation he was walking down them, the carpet muffling his footsteps.

He was at the bottom of the steps when he heard laughter coming from the right.

Jack followed it, grateful for some clue as to where he needed to go. This house was unfamiliar to him, and he hadn't wanted to give his memory loss away by getting completely lost. The sound led him into the kitchen, which was a spacious, comfortable area with a large island in the center of the room.

Ianto was there, working around the stove, while a delicious smell tickled Jack's nostrils. Without thinking, Jack moved toward him, slotting his arms around Ianto's waist and watching him as he made an omelet.

"Are you feeling better?" Ianto asked quietly, as he worked.

Jack hummed noncommittally, just luxuriating in holding the man that he'd obviously gotten up enough courage to ask to marry him. Why couldn't even he recall the proposal?

"Good," Ianto said, obviously taking the noise as assent. "I don't like it when you're down."

"Morning, Dads," a cheerful, Welsh voice called out behind them. Jack let go just enough to turn; the girl from the picture had come into the kitchen, and was leaning against the island, grinning. She was a couple of years older than in that photo, and far prettier in person. Jack really could see both him and Ianto in her, and his heart warmed at the knowledge that he'd gone back on his word and had had another child.

"Good morning, Mairwen," Ianto greeted her, a smile evident in his voice. "Breakfast is almost ready."

"I don't know if I can eat," she confessed. "I have butterflies on top of butterflies."

"You have every right to be nervous," Ianto said, moving from the stove to a small stack of plates on the counter. He deftly slid the omelet onto one, then picked it up and set it in front of her. "I know I was this close to a panic attack the day I married your dad."

It fell into place for Jack then: this was his daughter's wedding day. She was going to get married…and he had no idea who she was.

He wanted to cry.

Instead, he put on a smile. "I bet not as nervous as I was," he put in, knowing he must have been at the time he and Ianto had been married.

That earned him an eye roll. "I do seem to recall your hands were shaking so badly Martha had to tie your tie."

Jack laughed, although he was angry that that memory was gone. He had to get them back.

The door slammed, and a familiar voice called out. Ianto raised his voice, "We're in the kitchen, Owen."

At last, someone else Jack knew. Owen Harper hadn't changed all that much from what he did remember; a little less hair, perhaps, but it was still the same old Owen. He was wearing jeans and a faded blue t-shirt under a leather jacket that had seen better days, and the first thing he did was head straight toward the coffee machine, reaching up into a cabinet for a mug with an ease that said he'd been in their kitchen many times. "Just what I needed this morning," he mumbled, helping himself.

"It's not anyone's fault but your own that you were up too late last night," Ianto chided, setting another omelet down on the island. "Jack…eat."

There was something in the tone that had Jack obeying instantly. His stomach growled, and he tucked in enthusiastically.

"You look like shit, Jack," Owen commented, joining the family around the island.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Still the same old, sweet-talking Owen."

"Uncle Owen, please," Mairwen said, "Dad's a bit under the weather this morning."

"Well, don't blame me," Owen denied. "I was ready to leave long before he was last night, but he just had to stay and give Rhodri his 'I am Mairwen's father and if you hurt her you'll regret it' speech. Embarrassed me, he did."

Mairwen rolled her eyes, looking eerily like Ianto. "No, he didn't, and you know it. He likes Rhodri!"

Jack realized then that Rhodri must be the fiancé. Another missing memory; one that he was just as determined to get back.

"C'mon, Maire," Owen scoffed. "He's your dad. Of course he's gonna warn the guy you're marrying. Just be glad though it wasn't Ianto; that would have involved Myfanwy and Retcon."

Wait…Retcon? Jack seemed to recall Retcon. Had he done that to himself? But why would he want to?

A loud snort came from the area of the stove.

"It doesn't matter that Jack likes Rhodri," Owen went on, "it's in a father's genetic code to want his only child to be happy. I can show you the proof of it next time you're round by the Hub."

"Owen," Ianto said, joining them with his own plate, "quit teasing Mairwen." He sounded stern, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that Jack identified as laughter barely contained.

"Jesus, Ianto; I'm not! You know Jack's protective streak better than anyone." He turned to Jack, and his good mood suddenly vanished. "You sure you're all right, mate? You do look like you partied too hearty last night, and I know for a fact you didn't."

"It's just a bit of a headache," Jack answered, taking a sip of the coffee that had magically appeared in front of him. He gave Ianto a smile of thanks for it, and his husband nodded back. He decided to keep things noncommittal for now, until more things came back to him. Although, with Owen being there…it would be the perfect opportunity to be checked out. He'd approach him later, when they were alone. There was something telling him not to worry Ianto; he didn't know what the instinct was but Jack would follow it.

"Stress, most likely," Owen blew it off. "After all, it's not every day you get to give your daughter away."

"I like to think of it as a long-term loan," Jack answered, not exactly sure where the comment had come from, but it must have been the right thing to say. Mairwen smacked him lightly in the arm, and Ianto barely hid the grin behind his own coffee mug.

However, he thought Owen could be right. Stress did cause headaches…but long-term amnesia? No, Jack knew that was something else. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but didn't dare.

"Well, you're about to get a lot more stressed," Ianto warned. "You both still need to pick up the tuxes."

"I can't believe the tailor made such a mistake!" Mairwen moaned.

"It wouldn't have happened if you'd let me make the waistcoats," Ianto said calmly.

"I know, Dad, and I'm sorry I didn't ask you. I just didn't want you feel you had to do all that work."

"I know, sweetheart." Ianto looked a little disappointed, and Jack could understand why. Who didn't want to do something special for their only child? Especially for their wedding? "It's good to see you haven't lost your appetite, Jack." Ianto's voice had turned teasing,

Jack glanced down at his plate, and to his surprise it was empty. "Nope, not when you cook," he said, a bit surprised at the gushing but seeing the happiness on his husband's face it seemed to have been the right thing to say.

"Thank you, Jack. Now, you and Owen had better get out of here, if you want to get to Rhodri's before noon. After all, we don't want him to be late for his own wedding."

Jack suddenly felt the urge to sing 'Get Me to the Church on Time' from _My Fair Lady. _ He had no idea where it had come from.


	2. Chapter 2

Future Dreams, Past Nightmares

Author: Milady Dragon

Disclaimer: Not mine, I don't own it.

Author's note: Here is the second chapter. Thanks everyone, I can't believe the alerts I've been getting! Hope the rest of this lives up to expectations!

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**Chapter Two**

"You're not fooling anyone, you know."

"What do you mean?" Jack asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"You look like shit, Jack. Ianto and Maire might not have noticed, but they're really distracted today. And besides, I'm a fucking doctor. I can tell when someone's not feeling well. Plus, you didn't even fight me when I volunteered to drive."

Jack sighed, his eyes watching the scenery pass by. It was very obviously Cardiff; not too much had changed, and it was the familiarity of it that seemed to settle Jack's nerves a little.

He really didn't want to admit anything, but at the same time this was Owen. He'd thought about admitting what was wrong to him anyway. Yet, he was still trying to think up a logical story to fit his apparent odd behaviour.

But he couldn't come up with anything. Nothing at all. Jack knew he was acting out of character. He had to confide in someone, and he'd known Owen for years. If he couldn't trust his own medic…but the question lingered; if he was willing to trust Owen, then why was there this very quiet voice telling him to keep it from his own husband?

Why was he so determined to hide this from the one person he should trust above everyone else?

"All right," Jack finally answered. "I'll tell you."

"About bloody time, mate," Owen growled, downshifting the car as they came to a traffic light. If this was Owen's choice of vehicle, then Jack had underestimated him; it was what could be termed a 'family car', with four doors that wouldn't have looked out of place at a school rugby game. It made him wonder just what had gone on in Owen's life to make him seem so settled, and once again cursed his missing memory. It had to have been something – or someone – to have brought about such change.

"I know," Jack admitted. "It's just…bizarre…" And so Jack explained waking up that morning not being able to remember much of anything, especially his marrying Ianto and having a daughter with him.

In the meantime, Owen had pulled the car over into a car park, and had listened as Jack had spoken. He looked grave as the story came to an end. "You don't remember marrying tea-boy or carrying Maire at all?"

"There's nothing," Jack said, frustrated. "I do have memories of my past, mostly of being in Torchwood, but it's like a huge portion of my life has vanished."

"Is it like when the Time Agency wiped your memory?"

That particular memory suddenly slammed into Jack, and he remembered running from the Time Agency because of it. Fear crawled up and down his spine, and he glanced out of the window, his eyes darting around, trying to pinpoint a possible danger. Yes, he'd been told that the Agency had been disbanded, but the old anger and horror had just jumped onto him again, like the proverbial monkey on his back. "It could be," he answered slowly. "But you recall what Hart said…"

"Yeah, like I'd believe that crazy fucker." Owen rolled his eyes. "Okay, and it's a bit weird that you recall that little detail and you don't remember the fun we had at your CP." He shook his head. "All right; screw the tuxes. I'm taking you to the Hub and checking you out thoroughly – "

"No," Jack snapped, surprised by his own vehemence. "I'm sorry, Owen. But we don't have time for that. My daughter is getting married today. I want it to go off without a hitch."

"Jack," Owen argued, "this has to be something serious for you to have forgotten the last twenty-five years of your life!"

The air was knocked from Jack's lungs. Yes, that had to be right; the date on the medication bottle confirmed it, as did his daughter since she was obviously of marriageable age.

"Do you even remember becoming mortal?" Owen pressed.

Jack shook his head. That explained the grey hair and the wrinkles; he was mortal. His one dream; the one thing he'd wanted more than anything – perhaps with the exception of a certain Welshman – and he'd managed to achieve it…and that was also gone into the black hole that had become his memory. "How did it happen?" he asked slowly, almost reluctant to know.

"Jesus, Jack," Owen exclaimed. "This is not good at all…you haveta let me check you over!"

"No, not yet," he insisted. "Please, Owen…after the wedding, if my memory doesn't come back on its own. All right?"

Now it was Owen's turn to be frustrated. "If you're sure…"

"I am. Trust me." Jack tried to sound as serious as he could, and he thought he must have succeeded by the look on his friend's face.

"Of course I trust you," the medic growled. "But you can be so bloody stubborn!"

"I just don't want to ruin Maire's big day – "

Owen laughed harshly. "That just convinced me, if I'd doubted you before…which I hadn't, by the way. You never call her Maire. Only I can get away with that, and that's just because I'm her favorite uncle. It's always been Mairwen with you."

Jack mentally kicked himself. "All right, thanks for the correction. Now, could you please tell me how I became mortal?"

"There was a Rift storm that blew through Cardiff nineteen years ago," Owen explained, as he put the car back into gear and pulled into traffic once more. "You got swept up into it, and the only way to get you out was to diffuse the storm, which we didn't know how to do. Tosh tried her damnedest, and so did Ianto…but nothing they could come up with worked. I don't know what happened to you inside it; you won't say a thing about it, so it must've been bad. But it finally took Ianto, Tosh, and the Doctor to get you out. Only you came out mortal."

None of that rang a bell at all. Jack rubbed his forehead, where the headache he'd had seemed to have settled. He wanted to have that back, but not as much as he wanted his family back. "I couldn't have accidentally gotten into the Retcon, could I?" he asked.

"Nah, no way. To lose that much you would have noticed if you were taking it. 'Sides, I don't think you'd deliberately want to forget Ianto and Maire like that." He paused, as they came up to another traffic light. "I wish you'd reconsider and let me examine you back at the Hub…"

"Owen, please. I've made up my – "

Suddenly, agony flared across Jack's forehead, almost has if someone had struck him with a hot poker. He gasped, doubling over as far as his safety belt would allow, feeling like he wanted to vomit.

_He was surrounded by darkness, and a dampness that made his clothing cling to his skin uncomfortably. He couldn't move, nothing would even wriggle…and he could hear voices, but he couldn't make out the words…_

"Harkness!"

He could barely hear Owen's frantic voice through the haze that had descended over his mind. Jack tried to say something, anything, but nothing would come.

_It was cold…so cold, and the damp made it worse. Footsteps echoed around him, and the voices were still there but were so muffled he still couldn't understand. Something touched his arm, and it felt like a needle…_

The pain subsided, going back to being bearable. Jack found himself slumped in his seat, Owen holding his wrist; Jack could tell he was taking his pulse. "Harkness!" the medic called. "Jack…can you hear me?"

Jack nodded slightly, not wanting to disturb the thumping in his head too much. "I'm…fine," he managed to answer feebly.

"Bullshit," Owen snorted. "This is even more serious than you let on. Your pulse is through the roof and your breathing is shallow and rapid."

Somehow Owen had pulled the car over once more, and Jack hadn't noticed it. "That's…the first time anything like that's happened," he said, his voice sounding a bit stronger.

"I was about to slap you to see if I could snap you out of it."

"I'm glad you didn't." Jack didn't think his head could handle any sort of rampant abuse, even in the name of medical science.

"Can we drop the stubborn streak and go to the Hub now?"

"No!" Jack was a bit more vehement than he'd planned, but he couldn't help it. His head was pounding and he was beginning to be really afraid of what was happening to him. But something was making him want to avoid a total physical, and he had the feeling it was the same fear talking. He didn't want it to be a life-threatening illness; not today, of all days. "After the wedding," he promised. "I'll come to the Hub first thing in the morning, and you can run whatever tests you want to run."

"Jesus, you're so stubborn…" Owen sighed. "Fine. But I'm holding you to that, Harkness. I get why you don't want to do this today. I also get why you don't want to tell Ianto."

Which was more than Jack could say…why didn't he want to tell his own husband?

"But I'm gonna keep an eye on you," Owen went on, putting the car into gear and edging back into traffic. "If you throw any other wobblies –"

"I understand," Jack capitulated. "And I wouldn't have you any other way." If he'd been the religious sort, he would have been praying for nothing else to happen. He just had to get through today…

* * *

Ianto Jones was angry.

He strode across the Plass toward the invisible lift, too mad even to rehearse what he was going to say to Jack when he saw him. It was one thing to be delayed by Torchwood business…it was quite another to have been stood up, and not having big enough balls to call and just say he didn't want to meet Ianto at their favorite Italian place.

It had even been Jack's idea for them to go out tonight. Ianto would have been content with a quiet night in, but Jack had insisted that they didn't go out on enough dates, and with the Rift prediction program saying it was going to be quiet for the next couple of days it seemed like the perfect opportunity.

There was a niggling voice at the back of his head saying that Jack would have called if he'd had to cancel, but Ianto was too angry to pay it any mind.

He stepped onto the paving stone, and triggering the mechanism Ianto rode it down into the Hub below. Instantly he realized something was wrong; the Hub had been powered down, which meant that, unless Jack was hiding in his bunker, the place was deserted.

Ianto strode across the gloomy Hub, and checked his lover's office just to make certain that Jack wasn't trying to avoid being caught; there was nothing except a pile of discarded clothing on the camp bed. He frowned at the mess, then headed back up to the main floor, his mind turning over that obvious sign that Jack had changed into something else before leaving the Hub on standby.

Something wasn't right.

Every bit of anger he'd felt about being stood up dissipated, and the worried voice came to the fore. Ianto went to Toshiko's workstation, bringing it online as he considered the possibility that Jack's absence at dinner had not been his lover's choice. He instantly felt bad for doubting Jack; things had been really good between them since Jack had come back from his travels with the Doctor, and Ianto knew he shouldn't let his insecurities get in the way…

He ran the Hub's internal CCTV back, until he found what he was looking for. Ianto watched as Jack headed down to his bunker, to emerge nearly forty-five minutes later wearing a nice suit, his greatcoat folded over one arm. Jack then powered everything down, and the last image Ianto had of his lover was him leaving the Hub, the strobing light over the cog door flashing across the camera and making Jack's form a silhouette as he exited.

So, Jack had been fine when he left. That left Ianto wondering what had happened between then and getting to the restaurant four blocks away.

There was one way to find out.

He used Toshiko's program to hack into the external CCTV, so he could follow Jack's progress. His lover was easy to follow; the coat was very conspicuous as Jack exited from the Tourist Office and strode across the Plass. Ianto tracked his movements easily, and he gnawed his thumbnail absently as he watched Jack make his way to their date.

What he saw had him racing out of the Hub.


	3. Chapter 3

Future Dreams, Past Nightmares

Author: Milady Dragon

Disclaimer: Not mine, drat!

Author's note: Here we go! Hope you enjoy this. And thanks to everyone reading this.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Picking up the tuxedos had taken no time at all.

The tailor had apologized profusely, offering a small discount for the mistake and the delay. He proudly displayed the redone waistcoats, and Jack really wasn't all that impressed, thinking that Ianto could have done such a better job.

Owen dealt with the man, leaving Jack to his thoughts. He tried so very hard to remember, but what he did have slipped through his fingers like the finest Boeshane sand. And he remembered Boeshane…not vividly at all, but he did know that was his home, and that he had family there, and that they were dead…or would be. And Gray…he held Gray's memory closest, his lost brother the reason for so many things that he'd done and experienced.

Jack put Gray out of his mind; he had to, because that way lay a sadness too profound for such a day as this. No, he had to focus on the family he had now, to try to recall what had brought him to this point in his very long life…and the happiness he knew was there, just out of his grasp.

"We're sorted," Owen said, bringing Jack out of his reverie. "Wanna grab a few?"

Jack nodded, picking up several of the plastic-wrapped bags, and together they left the shop. Jack shook his head. "Mairwen should have let Ianto do the work."

"Well, we did try to convince her of that," Owen shrugged. "But you know how protective she is of her other Dad."

"Actually," Jack answered bitterly, "I don't." He didn't even know why he, himself, felt like he needed to wrap Ianto up in as thick a duvet as possible to protect him from the outside world. The Ianto Jones he remembered had been a scrapper, and not afraid to back down from anything.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Owen opened the back of the vehicle, and they hung the tuxedos up on the hooks built in for such a thing. "C'mon; I'll explain on the way to Rhodri's."

Jack got into the car, and Owen climbed in and pulled it out into the thin traffic. "About fifteen years ago," he began, "there was an outbreak of a deadly virus that turned out to be alien. It was let loose on Earth by a race who wanted to cull out what they considered the weak then take the survivors as soldiers for some damned war halfway across the galaxy. Only problem was, it was too virulent by half, and it was only because of Torchwood and the Doctor that the planet was saved. Thing was, Ianto and Gwen were two of the victims. Gwen came through just fine, but Ianto…" Owen sighed. "We did our best, Jack, but the virus damaged his heart. He's perfectly fine with the medication he's on, but you and Maire still have a tendency to treat him like he's made of glass or something. Pisses him right off, and I can understand it, but you both can't help yourselves."

Jack's heart plummeted. A brief image crossed his mind: of Ianto on a bed, hooked up to machines…and then it was gone, and while he was almost pitifully grateful to recall something from the blackness of the last twenty-five years, he ached that it was _that_ particular memory. He'd nearly lost _Ianto_, and it was the reason he felt so overprotective of his husband. That explained what he was experiencing. "Thanks for telling me," he murmured, still wrestling with the emotions of Ianto nearly dying.

"No problem, mate," Owen said. "And, as Ianto puts it, at least one good thing came from it: the bloody planet finally accepted the truth about aliens, and it brought Torchwood out in the open. Now, we can do our jobs without any civilians fighting us on it."

Now, that seemed completely unreal to Jack: people knowing about Torchwood, and it operating with almost-full disclosure. He just couldn't grasp that notion.

"We're here."

Owen had pulled up in front of what looked like a two-up, two-down in a nice, residential neighborhood. Jack frowned, confused about their sudden arrival. Had he been so deep in thought that he'd lost track of time?

They gathered up the tuxes and Jack followed Owen up to a second-floor flat, where the door had been left open. The pair entered; it was a tastefully decorated yet obviously bachelor flat, and it was currently crowded with perhaps fifteen people, none of them looking to be older than twenty-one. Jack thought he recognized a few of them, but he just couldn't be certain.

"There you are!" The young man that approached them was smiling, even though he looked unbelievably nervous. He was a handsome boy, and Jack suddenly knew this was Rhodri…his daughter's fiancé. A brief memory of Mairwen bringing Rhodri home to meet her dads flashed across his minds' eye, and once again Jack was pathetically happy for yet another memory to come to him.

But on the heels of this revelation, another stab of pain lanced behind his eyes. Jack staggered, dropping the clothes bags he'd been carrying.

_He couldn't see, but he could sense a presence standing over him, and there was the distinct sound of pleasure as a voice said, "Very good…very good indeed."_

Jack wasn't even aware of hitting the floor, but he welcomed the blackness that rushed forward to take the agony away.

* * *

Ianto glanced at his teammates from where he stood at the head of the conference table. There were varying degrees of irritation from Gwen and Owen, and Toshiko looked confused…but then, he'd called them all in as soon as he'd discovered that Jack was truly missing. Ianto hadn't told them his fears yet, waiting for them to get settled before he began to explain.

"Thanks for coming in," he said, holding his worry for his lover tightly inside, not wanting to give in to the panic that nibbled at his consciousness.

"This better be good, tea-boy," Owen growled. "The bird I was pulling had these massive – "

"I'm sure she was quite well-endowed," Ianto snapped, suddenly not able to keep his calm in the face of the medic's barb. "But we have another, bigger issue here."

"Where's Jack?" Gwen asked, her eyes darting toward the conference room door as if she was expecting to enter in with his usual flair.

"That's why I called you all in," Ianto answered, irritated at this interruption. He had to get his emotions under control, or he'd do Jack no good at all. "Jack's missing."

"Bloody hell," Owen swore. "He do a runner again?"

That question started a cascade of questions that Ianto cut across with a sharp, "That's enough!" which startled his teammates into quiet. "No," Ianto answered, much quieter this time. "He did not 'do a runner' as you so baldly put it. No, Jack was kidnapped."

"How can you be sure?" Toshiko asked. She didn't sound accusing, merely curious.

"Because Jack would never leave this behind." Ianto pulled an object from his pocket, tossing it onto the table.

It was Jack's Vortex Manipulator.

That got everyone's attention.

"What happened?" Gwen asked, going into 'copper questioning' mode.

Ianto would have usually bristled at her tone, but he understood why she was using it, and so he answered by telling them all about Jack not showing up at their arranged meeting – he didn't call it a date, not in front of the team – and Ianto coming back to the Hub to track Jack's movements via CCTV. "He was passing by an alley on his way," he went on, "and there was apparently something inside that caught his attention, because he went in…and didn't come back out. I saw a slight glow coming from the alley, so he was either taken by the Rift…or was taken by someone who uses the Rift to travel."

"And they knew to take off Jack's wrist strap," Toshiko said.

Ianto nodded. To his mind that meant only one person.

"You're telling us John bloody Hart is back," Owen snapped, not even bothering to make it into a question.

"It's what fits," Ianto answered. "I ran scans of the alley and there's definitely traces of Rift energy there…the same energy that Hart uses when he travels." Ianto couldn't hold in his anger any longer, and he thumped the table with his fist. "If Hart has Jack…" he let the threat fade out, knowing the team felt the same way.

"We'll get him back," Gwen vowed.

Ianto nodded. He had to believe that. "Tosh, can you check the readings we have for Hart's previous visit and compare them to the ones I took?" He didn't want to order anyone, since he wasn't Jack's second in command, but Ianto did know what needed to be done in order to get his lover back.

"Sure will," Toshiko agreed, standing. "I'll also run scans to see if there's any other sign that Hart may have taken Jack somewhere else in the city."

"I'll get photos of Jack and Hart out to the Heddlu," Gwen added. "If they're anywhere in the city, a local copper might catch sight of them."

Ianto didn't think it likely, but it wouldn't hurt and it would give Gwen something to do. "Owen, think you can go back to that alley and see if there's anything I might have missed?"

"Sure," Owen shrugged. "But with your eye for detail? I kinda doubt it."

He didn't know if Owen was praising him…or insulting him. With Owen one could never tell.

* * *

Jack's head forced him out of the darkness he'd fallen in to. A moan escaped his lips as he opened his eyes to the glare of fluorescent lighting that lined the ceiling overhead.

"About time," a voice – Owen – came from somewhere to his left. Jack turned his head; his friend and teammate was there, leaning against a wall that he recognized as being just that shade of white that most hospitals used. The IV in his arm was also a dead giveaway. "You had us worried there."

"Sorry." Jack's mouth was so dry, his tongue feeling as if it had grown a nice pelt in the time he'd been unconscious.

"You should be."

He turned to the right, and saw Ianto standing there, looking worried but with anger overriding its place on his pale face. His blue eyes were practically sparking.

"Ianto –" he wanted to explain, to tell his husband everything.

But he cut Jack off before he could any further. "Owen told me everything, Jack. Of course he had to, once he called me to tell me you were here."

"I didn't want to worry you – "

"Worry me?" Ianto was so angry, his voice shook. "And you suddenly collapsing at Rhodri's flat wasn't enough to do that?" He threw up his hands in sheer frustration. "Every time, you decide you don't want me to worry, and something happens to make it worse. Don't you learn anything? I'm not weak, Jack. And I resent you not trusting me to help."

Jack suddenly felt ashamed for not confiding in Ianto immediately, once he'd known there was something wrong. Ianto was his husband; he should have been the first one Jack told.

"Ease up, tea-boy," Owen intervened. "It's not that serious – "

"Not serious?" Ianto fairly shouted. "Owen, if this isn't serious, then I really don't want to know what your idea of serious is!"

Any incipient argument was curtailed by the arrival of someone Jack was very grateful to see: Martha Jones, looking a bit older than the last time Jack remembered seeing her, wearing a white doctor's coat and carrying a small electronic pad. She narrowed her eyes at Jack, and he knew any sort of bollocking he was going to get wouldn't end at Ianto. "Now," Martha said, her tone what Jack liked to call 'doctor neutral', "Owen says you been having problems all day." She shot a furious glance at Owen, who had the grace to look embarrassed.

A glare from Ianto convinced Jack to be completely honest with Martha. "Yeah," he answered, sounding contrite.

"And you didn't have the common sense to get checked over?" Now, _that_ particular tone was one Jack had heard before…from the Doctor, just after Jack had done something spectacularly stupid.

"I tried to convince him – " Owen protested.

"Well, you didn't do a good enough job, then," Martha snapped back.

"No," Jack answered truthfully. "I didn't want anything to go wrong today, of all days. It's my fault, not Owen's, for wanting our daughter's wedding day to go off without a hitch."

"We need to arrange some tests, Jack – "

"No, Martha. Not today…tomorrow," Jack said insistently. "I promise I'll report for tests tomorrow. Today's too important to Mairwen."

"But if there's something more serious than what Owen reported – "

"I said no!" Jack shouted. "I'm not going to have my daughter's big day ruined."

"Jack," Ianto said, coming forward to take his hand, "Mairwen knows about you being in hospital. She's fine with delaying the wedding until you're better."

He looked up into his husband's eyes; the anger had been replaced by worry, and a healthy dose of what Jack could tell was love. "I want to walk our daughter down the aisle today," he murmured. "This is her day, and I don't want it wrecked. How many times have our plans been ruined because of Torchwood?"

Ianto favored him with a small, intimate smile. "I understand. But this isn't Torchwood, Jack…it's your health. And anything could happen to you now, and you won't heal like you used to. Jack, I don't want anything happening to you just yet, yeah?"

Jack couldn't help himself; he used his other hand – careful of the IV – and pulled his husband down into a soft kiss. "You know I love you, right?" Jack did love Ianto more than anyone he'd ever known, and that love was like a warmth that flooded his entire body.

"I love you, too, Jack," Ianto answered. "Promise me though…tomorrow we get this checked. And, no matter what happens, we handle it together."

"I promise." It was a promise Jack intended to keep.


	4. Chapter 4

Future Dreams, Past Nightmares

Author: Milady Dragon

Disclaimer: Not mine, sorry.

Author's note: Welcome again! Thanks everyone, I appreciate everyone reading this. Hope you keep enjoying.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Between Owen and Ianto, they got Jack home and tucked up into bed. Jack really didn't want to be there, but Ianto insisted that he rest until they absolutely had to get ready to leave.

"I do wish you wouldn't treat me like I'm fragile," Ianto whispered, pulling the duvet up around Jack. "I can handle anything that might be wrong. I really didn't like hearing it from Owen."

"I really am sorry." Once again Jack felt guilty about not sharing that something had been wrong with him since that morning. As if the familiar surroundings of home were soaking into his brain, vague memories were beginning to surface, and he was so very glad to be getting them back. Glimpses of his and Ianto's life together were slowly coming back, and he grasped each one and held onto it protectively.

"Yes, well I'd say not do it again, but I know you too well." Ianto pressed a gentle kiss to Jack's forehead. "Get some rest, all right? I'll be downstairs helping Mairwen. Just yell if you need anything."

"Does that anything include you?" Jack leered.

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Even sick, you're incorrigible."

"But you love me anyway." It was surprising how easily that word came from Jack's lips, when it entailed saying it to Ianto.

"You know I do. Now, rest. I'm sure I can trust you with Owen." Shooting a glare in the medic's direction, Ianto left the room.

"Now you've gotten me on tea-boy's bad side," Owen growled. "Thanks a lot, Harkness."

"That's Harkness-Jones," Jack answered back, almost by instinct.

"Yeah, you say that every time." Owen pushed himself off the wall he'd been leaning against. "Look, I might give you shit, but you two are my best friends…well, except from Tosh, so don't tell her I said that, okay?"

Owen and Toshiko? Damnit, Jack wanted _that_ particular memory back!

"Did you tell Ianto everything?"

"Hell yeah," Owen answered. "It's more than my life's worth to hold anything back. Besides, if I hadn't, Martha would've. You know she adores the both of you."

From the little that Jack could recall, he did seem to know that.

"Well, at least it's out in the open," Jack sighed.

"I need to head out," Owen said, "gotta make sure I'm presentable or a certain someone will have my arse, and I hate getting on Tosh's bad side." He ambled toward the door, turning once he got there. "Have Ianto call me if anything else happens, you got it?"

Jack answered with a small salute.

It didn't take long for the silence to get to him. Throwing off the duvet, Jack put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, then made his way down the hall, where his daughter's bedroom was. The door was open, and Jack found himself leaning against the jamb as Mairwen frantically searched her dresser for something, wearing only a bathrobe, with her hair already done in soft ringlets around her pretty face.

She was absolutely gorgeous, and Jack felt his heart melt.

"I can't find the earrings Aunt Toshiko let me borrow for today," she said over her shoulder. "I could have sworn I put them on the dresser…"

Jack joined in the earring search, even though he didn't know what they looked like. He did remember Toshiko's style though, and felt he could make an educated guess.

"Dad's mad at you," she said, a few seconds into the search.

"Yeah, I know."

"I don't blame him, you know. You'd be pissed off at him if he'd hidden something like that from you."

Jack began moving some of the books that Mairwen had stacked up. _The Fellowship of the Ring _by Tolkien, _Diplomatic Immunity_ by Bujold, and _The Stand _by King testified to his daughter's apparent taste in literature, although he was a bit confused that there wasn't anything newer in the pile. "I doubt I'd be 'pissed', Mairwen."

"No, you're right…you'd be furious."

It felt odd for his own daughter to be rebuking him. He was about to retort when he saw a pair of earrings tucked under a dog-eared copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. "Are these them?" he asked, lifting them up.

Mairwen grinned. "That's them." She took them from him, slipping the understated gold dangles into her earlobes. "Thanks, Dad."

Then she hugged him. Jack returned the embrace, but at the same time he was well aware of not really knowing this beautiful young woman. In that moment it felt inconceivable that he would have forgotten her, and all those little things that he'd seen as she'd grown up. How was it possible? What had caused this horrible memory loss?

* * *

"Will you quit fidgeting?" Ianto scolded.

"Sorry." Jack tried to stand still, but there was something about wearing the fancy tie that made him twitchy.

Ianto finished tying the thing, and Jack had to admit that the tuxedo looked fantastic on him. The rich blue and silver of the waistcoat brought out his eyes, and he turned to look at his husband, who took his breath away.

Ianto's waistcoat was red, with the same silver threads in it that Jack's had. Jack still thought that Ianto could have done a better job on them, but at the same time he had to admit that his husband looked positively radiant. "Have I told you lately just how gorgeous you are?" he said, resting his hands on Ianto's hips and pulling him closer.

A slight blush painted itself across his pale features. Yet, Ianto smiled wickedly. "So are you," he replied, looping an arm around Jack's neck. He brushed his lips across Jack's, and Jack couldn't help but moan into it a little. A flash of his own wedding came to him, and Jack grasped at it, trying to hold it as close as his husband was to him now.

Ianto pulled away reluctantly. "We need to go," he said.

Jack grinned, excited despite everything that had happened to him. "Yep, we need to make sure we get the bride to the church on time."

He held out his arm to Ianto, who rolled his eyes then took it. Together, they left their bedroom, gathering Mairwen up as they made their way downstairs. Their daughter was a vision in her white, off the shoulder gown, the long veil she wore over her styled hair whispering across the floor as she moved. Her bridesmaids were waiting for them all in the lounge, and they fell in behind the family as the entourage went to meet the limousine that was awaiting them.

* * *

Ianto rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the grit from watching too many hours of CCTV footage, in a so-far vain attempt to find any trace of either Jack or John Hart.

The Hub was far too empty, even with three of them in it; Gwen was still at Cardiff CID, hoping to get some sort of lead with the alerts she had them put out. Without Jack's larger-than-life personality to fill it, the place reminded Ianto of the four months that Jack had disappeared, running after his Doctor in order to get answers to his immortality. Ianto had long since forgiven him for it, but he'd made Jack work a bit in order to get back into his life…and his bed. Jack had persevered, and Ianto thought they were stronger for it. Guilt ate at him, for his assumption that Jack had stood him up at the restaurant. He'd far too easily fallen back into old insecurities, and he vowed that it wouldn't happen again.

If they were able to get Jack back.

They'd been unable to find any further traces of Hart anywhere, but Ianto knew with a working Vortex Manipulator that the ex-Time Agent could have taken Jack anywhere…or any time. Toshiko was still going over months of Rift data to see if she could find anything, while Ianto and Owen were making themselves blind examining CCTV footage from all over the city.

So far, no sign.

Jack had once told Ianto that Martha Jones had a direct phone number to reach the Doctor, and had instructed him to call her if anything like this had ever happened. The problem was that Ianto didn't trust the Doctor for anything, not after Jack's admission about the Year he was gone, and what the Doctor had said about Jack in particular. It also might be a leftover of Ianto's Torchwood One training, but to him the Doctor was nothing but an interfering alien with a serious God complex. He believed in his own morality to the exclusion of others, and Ianto knew it wouldn't take much for him to want to punch the Time Lord's lights out, especially if he started going on about how 'wrong' Jack was.

No, calling the Doctor would only be as a last resort. Until they had actual proof that Jack had been taken beyond Earth and beyond this time period.

Ianto went back to his search. The only noises in the Hub were Myfanwy, rustling within her nest, and his fellow teammates as they went about their own work. He really didn't know if it would work, even using the fancy face-recognition software that Toshiko had created; so much could be missed, even with both the software and his own eyes looking. He wondered if he could take a quick break to make some coffee…

A simple chime sounded from Toshiko's workstation, and Ianto was up out of his chair before he even registered it happening. Owen must have moved just as fast, because both of them were standing behind Toshiko in seconds. Ianto's heart was racing, and he took a deep breath to calm down.

"There was a Rift flair matching Hart's frequency down by the docks," she reported, sounding almost breathless. Her fingers danced over the keys as she pulled up the data. "It happened just now."

"Can you get us coordinates?" Ianto asked. His hand practically clenched on the back of her chair, and a small part of him worried about the fabric under his fingers tearing.

"I can do better than that," she said. The larger screen in front of her cleared of the Rift information, and a grainy CCTV image appeared.

In it stood the unmistakable form of Captain John Hart.

"Well done, Tosh," Owen murmured.

Toshiko blushed slightly at the compliment. She hit a key a little too hard, but Ianto doubted she noticed.

The still frame split into two, the second showing real-time feed from the camera she'd found. "He's gone," Ianto growled.

"Then let's see what he was up to," Toshiko said. The first window fuzzed out as she obviously rewound the footage. She stopped it after a few seconds, and the frame was empty of anything but a birds'-eye view of a street corner.

After a few seconds, Hart appeared under it in a glow of Rift energy.

The resolution was poor, but John Hart stood out even worse than Jack did. He glanced around, and then did something at his wrist…obviously his own Vortex Manipulator.

Then he turned toward the camera.

Despite the bad picture, it was obvious he was grinning.

He lifted two fingers to his temple in a playful salute, then turned and walked out of frame.


	5. Chapter 5

Future Dreams, Past Nightmares

Author: Milady Dragon

Disclaimer: Not mine, sorry about that.

Author's note: Here's the next chapter, and we start to get some answers. Thanks, everyone, for reading this. I really appreciate you all!

* * *

**Chapter Five**

The church was full to bursting.

Jack just wished he knew the majority of people within the pews.

Both he and Ianto walked Mairwen down the aisle, her arms looped through theirs. Jack couldn't feel prouder of her, and despite his wanting to act like a man he found himself tearing up at the very idea that his little girl had grown up to be such a beautiful bride. Being from the 51st Century, Jack had a bit of a different notion toward marriage, but at the same time he'd lived a majority of his life on Earth, taking the slow path through the 19th, 20th, and then 21st Centuries, and he'd come to respect the traditions of the times he'd seen. It had all started making sense to him about the time he'd met Ianto, and even if Jack didn't recall much of their married life together, he knew it meant everything to him that his husband had chosen him to spend his life with, and obviously had even before Jack had become mortal once more.

They passed the standing witnesses, and Jack recognized some of the well over a hundred guests. There were Rhys and Gwen, and he thought that was their daughter and son with them. There was Martha and Tom and the entire Jones clan, as well as Mickey Smith of all people. Toshiko and Owen were also there, with a teenage boy standing between them…a flash of being at the hospital for his birth passed through Jack's memories as they made their way past. He wanted to laugh at it, especially the recollection of Toshiko swearing she'd castrate Owen if he tried to touch her ever again.

There was also a youngish-looking man wearing black tails and a vibrantly red bow tie, accompanied by a red-headed woman, a young man with a rather beaky nose, and another woman with curly hair and a sly grin on her face. Jack might not have known who the three were, but it was patently obvious that this was another version of the Doctor, if just by the dress sense.

Something passed through the Time Lord's eyes as they met Jack's, but then his blinding grin was back, and he was bobbing his head as if it was attached to his shoulders by a spring, like he was some sort of alien bobble-head doll.

Jack wondered just what that look was, but decided to ignore it for now.

He had more important things to do.

He and Ianto escorted Mairwen to the front, where they relinquished her to a blushingly joyful Rhodri. Ianto raised her veil, kissing her cheek; Jack kissed her as well, placing her hand in her young man's. Then they took their places in the first pew, and the wedding of their only daughter began.

All throughout the ceremony, little bursts of memory of his and Ianto's own Civil Partnership – and later wedding, when such things became legal for same-sex couples – played across his mind, and he couldn't help but smile even wider, glad that he was finally getting back something that he'd thought lost. Ianto's hand was warm in his, and Jack didn't think he could be any happier than he was, sitting in the church of a religion he didn't necessarily believe in, listening to a vicar read from the ancient Bible on the high pulpit, with his child standing with the man she loved. This was a day he would always keep close to his heart, and cherish it for as long as he had left in this world.

The vows were exchanged, the rings given, a kiss shared, and then they were officially announced as husband and wife. Jack stood with Ianto, hands still clasped, as cameras clicked and captured this moment for posterity. Mairwen looked radiant, and Jack didn't think that Rhodri could smile any wider.

And then they were heading down the aisle, practically running, and the clapping that accompanied them was nearly deafening.

Suddenly, blackness nibbled at Jack's vision, and an angry voice shouted, _"NO!"_ in his mind…

"Jack?" Ianto's worried voice cut into the encroaching blackness, bringing him back to the present.

He turned to look at Ianto, his husband. His blue eyes were frightened, and Jack leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "It's passed," he reassured him, squeezing his hand.

"Tomorrow, Jack…"

"I promise. Tomorrow I go to the Hub and get tested." He smiled happily. "Now, let's get to the reception before there isn't any cake left."

The reception was held in an annex of the church, and was decorated in shades of red and blue. Tables had been set up around the large space, and it was filled nearly to capacity by wedding guests. Jack and Ianto took their places at the table reserved for the bride and groom and their family, joining Rhodri's parents as the vicar shook hands with them all in congratulation.

The sound of someone tapping a champagne flute caused a hush to fall over the chattering crowd. Jack turned toward the source, and saw a beaming Owen Harper standing at the back of the hall, holding what looked like a spoon and the aforementioned flute. "May I present Mr. Rhodri Price and Mrs. Mairwen Harkness-Jones Price."

Fleetingly Jack wondered why Mairwen had decided to keep the hyphenated monstrosity that was her birth name…and then just enjoyed the moment as the newly-married couple entered the annex to the happy applause of everyone present.

Mairwen kissed both her fathers as she took her seat next to Ianto, while Rhodri hugged the two men and then his own folks. The vicar offered a prayer, and then the band that had been hired to play began their first set.

The day went by in a series of happy images for Jack. The cutting of the cake…the first dance…everything was simply perfect. He himself danced with Mairwen, and then Ianto…and, surprisingly, the Doctor, who was about as graceful as a cat with two broken legs. The Time Lord had admitted his surprise at Jack's domesticity, but then rushed in and claimed that he was just as surprised at his own. Before Jack could comment on that, Ianto claimed him back, and Jack had just had to ask.

To hear that the Doctor, himself, was married to the curly-haired woman – who apparently was the infamous River Song – and that the red-haired woman and the man with the interesting nose were, in fact, his in-laws, couldn't have been more shocking than had a Dalek arrived and asked him to dance.

At last, Jack grew tired, and took his place back at the head table. He leaned back in his chair, letting the happiness of the day wash over him. It also helped that some of his lost memories were returning as he met more and more people he should recognize, giving him a sense of peace that he hadn't had ever since waking up that morning with a black hole in his mind.

Still, he meant to keep his promise to Ianto, and get checked. While some of what he'd lost was coming back, there was still so much more he couldn't access, and it bothered him.

But his sense of contentment wasn't to last.

He was chatting with Martha and Tom when a flash of red from the back of the hall distracted him.

Jack's eyes tracked the movement, and it took all his experience as a conman not to react to who he saw.

It was John Hart.

What was he doing here?

Jack watched as Hart made some sort of scan, and then left the annex, but not before catching Jack's eye. There was a very faint nod – Jack almost missed it himself – and then he was gone, out through a side door.

Excusing himself, Jack followed Hart. He had to know what his former partner was doing there, and if there was trouble ahead. He couldn't recall if they'd somehow made peace in the last twenty-five years, but if Hart was there to wreak havoc, then Jack was going to stop it.

The man wasn't hard to find.

There was a small garden just outside the door, and Jack could just make out a red jacket amid the riotous colors of the flowers. He made his way down the gravel path cautiously, but then Jack knew that Hart was expecting him. He doubted that he'd get there undetected.

"It's good to see you, Jack," a voice he'd thought he'd never hear again murmured from a nearly-hidden bench.

John Hart hadn't changed at all; only a few more lines around the eyes testified to the passage of time. He still wore the Napoleonic-era jacket that he'd had back at their first encounter in Cardiff, when Hart had tried to kill his team. Yes, he remembered that vividly, almost as if it had happened months ago, instead of decades.

"What are you doing here?" Jack demanded, letting his anger show. It would be right within character for Hart to disrupt what should be his daughter's day, and he was damned if he'd let the man do anything to hurt anyone back at the reception.

Hart didn't reply; instead, he fiddled with his wrist strap for a second, then sighed. "I can't come and wish my ex-partner's daughter good luck in the married estate?"

"No," Jack answered somewhat harshly. "You don't even respect marriage enough to keep out from between established couples. Why should I think you'd do the same with my daughter?"

"Aw, c'mon Jack! Can't I have changed?"

Jack crossed his arms over his chest. "What are you doing here, John?"

Several emotions crossed Hart's usually inscrutable face; disappointment, acceptance, and pain the most evident. A tiny voice inside Jack's head whispered that he couldn't trust what he was seeing, but at the same time something made him want to believe that Hart had, indeed, changed.

"Down to business," the man finally said. "Just the way I like it." He slapped his thighs, and then stood. "I don't have long anyway. It won't take long before my tampering's been noticed anyway."

"What are you talking about?" Jack asked acerbically, not liking what seemed to be an unusual crypticness on Hart's part.

"What do you remember about the last twenty-five years?" Hart asked.

Before he could even react, Jack had grabbed Hart by the jacket lapels and was pinning the shorter man against the nearest tree. "What the hell have you done?" he demanded. He'd considered that his memory loss had been deliberate, but Hart being behind it hadn't even crossed his mind.

Hart's pale eyes met Jack's directly. "I'm sure you've heard of a Chronolicron?"

Jack frowned, delving into what was left of his memory. A Chronolicron was a helmet-like device that allowed its wearer to travel back along their own timeline and to view events through their past selves' eyes. "I have," he confirmed. "What does that have to do with you showing up at my daughter's wedding?"

"Twenty-five years ago," Hart answered, not even trying to get away, "one of your enemies got ahold of one. Thing of it was, they messed with it enough that they were able to reprogram it to let the wearer travel through their future, instead of their past."

Jack shook his head, releasing his grasp on his ex-partner. "That's not possible. As I recall, a Chronolicron had built-in redundancies to keep that from happening. Besides, a person's future isn't fixed. There's really no way to see beyond a couple of days, even if someone was technically savvy enough to pull it off."

"Yeah, normally I'd agree with you on that," Hart conceded, straightening his jacket. "But if the person on the receiving end of a Chronolicron's programming was a fixed point in time and space…" He let that sentence fade out, allowing Jack to draw his own conclusions.

Jack chewed the inside of his cheek, ruminating over the implications Hart was inferring. He wasn't even going to ask how Hart had known that, since Jack hadn't mentioned that sort of thing at their last meeting…well, the last meeting he could recall.

No one really knew what being a fixed point entailed; not even the Doctor had fully explained it, but then Jack didn't know if that was because he didn't think Jack would understand, or if the Time Lord himself didn't really know. He only had his former Time Agency training to fall back on, and Jack had come to the conclusion that everything he would be involved in would therefore become fixed in time, with no way of changing events. He'd been meant to be immortal; at least, that's what Martha had once told him, and she'd apparently gotten that from the previous incarnation of the Doctor…the one Ianto hated more than anything.

However, when he'd become mortal…and this was where Jack's memory failed him, because he honestly didn't remember that part of his life at all. He wondered how the Doctor had explained it…if he'd even been able to. From Owen had said, no one really knew how he'd lost his immortality in the first place, only that he'd come out of the Rift changed. Had that also been a fixed point?

There was no way of ever knowing.

"So," Jack said, "someone put me in this reprogrammed Chronolicron, and sent my mind into my personal future?"

It made a weird sort of sense. He'd only been able to regain clear memories from twenty-five years ago; anything else had come through in vague images and sudden flashes of insight. If his mind from the past had somehow been sent into his body from the future…then it was obvious why he couldn't recall much of anything, because he hadn't lived that life yet. The memories that were coming to him were bleeding through from his future mind, which was still within him somewhere.

"But the Chronolicron was made to allow the future self to see through their past selves' eyes," Jack added. "Not to put them in control of their body."

"Yeah," Hart answered. "Well, like I said…this person messed with it, and I don't have any idea just how badly he screwed it up."

"But why?" Jack asked, confused. "Why would someone show me my personal future?" Especially if it was an enemy, as Hart had claimed.

"Well see," he drawled, taking a seat once more, "this person we're talking about had this brilliant idea to use your future to torture you with, by showing it to you and then making it impossible to happen. It was kinda like a form of surveillance, only to find out what would hurt you the most if you lost it. But he didn't count on your past mind taking control of your future body, which is making it a bit difficult to get you back."

Jack shivered. If what Hart was saying was true…who had he pissed off that much? Who would want to hurt him that badly?

He had to know.

Hart looked contrite at the question. "Jack…I wasn't lying when I said I'd found Gray."

At that pronouncement, Jack's world collapsed.

He crumpled, barely managing to find a seat on the bench and avoiding falling flat on his arse. _Gray._ His own brother…

But why? Why would Gray want to destroy him? His own brother? Jack had done everything in his power to find Gray, even joining the Time Agency in an attempt to go back and try to rescue him from the creatures who'd invaded Boeshane. He'd eventually had to give up, once he'd found himself trapped on Earth, but he'd never forgotten, not even after centuries.

He looked at Hart, and he knew his expression had to be one of shock. Hart actually reached over and took Jack's hand, offering his sympathy and support.

Jack was in just enough agony to accept it.

"I found him chained in a ruined city in the Bedlam Outlands," Hart explained softly. "He was surrounded by corpses, the creatures who'd been there had just left him to die. I really thought I was doing something good Jack; I thought if I located Gray, then maybe you'd see how much I love you. But he was damaged by what had happened, driven insane by their torture. He suckered me into believing his hero-worship shit, and when my guard was down…" He rolled up his sleeve to reveal his Vortex Manipulator.

Jack cringed when he saw the leather bonded to Hart's arm.

"It's a bomb," Hart went on, rolling the sleeve down. "I have enough control over my wrist strap to move about, and some other basic functions, but Gray's threatening to blow me sky high if I don't do what he wants…which is to get revenge on you, Jack, for letting go of his hand all those years ago."

Guilt slammed into Jack, guilt that he'd suppressed when he'd come to realize there was nothing he could do to find his little brother. Here he was, with the perfect life, and yet he'd let Gray languish with the aliens who'd taken him prisoner.

Maybe he didn't deserve this happiness.

Something in his face must have given away his thoughts, because Hart snorted. "Goddess, Jack, you have the biggest persecution complex I've ever seen! Gray might be crazier than a Manxian slug, but you didn't make him that way."

"I let go of his hand –"

"You were a little kid! There was nothing you could do, and you tried to make up for it. I even attempted to explain that to Gray, but he wouldn't listen. He's so eaten up with hate and anger he just won't see reason. You deserve happiness, Jack; I think, of anyone I know, no one deserves it more than you." He got this sly look on his face. "Although that offer of an orgy still stands. You can't tell me Eye Candy wasn't considering it, at least for a few seconds…"

Jack couldn't help but roll his eyes. He wondered if he'd told Ianto about Gray, and then decided he must have. He just couldn't see keeping any sort of secrets from him, even if he was prone to coddling him a bit.

"I don't share anymore," Jack answered, glowering.

"Too bad." Hart stood, releasing Jack's hand. "I need to get back. I'm gonna be missed."

"Wait! You said Gray can see this future…then can't he see that you're here too?" A spike of pain stabbed his heart, knowing that Hart was right in what had happened but still feeling as if he somehow deserved it.

This time, Hart did the eye rolling. "Quit being such a bloody martyr," he snapped. Then he sighed, tapping his wrist strap. "I did a little messing on my own, and I've fed in a feedback loop to the Chronolicron. It's currently showing your daughter's wedding, from what I hope are your eyes. I made sure not to get you in any of the frames," he reassured Jack. "But the feedback is gonna run out soon, and I need to get back and tip off your team to come and rescue you."

"You're putting your life at risk for me." Jack couldn't fathom it, not coming from John Hart.

His ex-partner snorted. "If your team doesn't bollocks it up, I'm hoping it won't come to that." He flipped open the front of his Vortex Manipulator. "You know, playing the hero kinda feels nice. I might have to try it again some time." With a cheeky wink, Hart vanished in a swirl of Rift energy, leaving Jack to his own thoughts.


	6. Chapter 6

Future Dreams, Past Nightmares

Author: Milady Dragon

Disclaimer: Not mine, don't own it.

Author's note: Thanks for joining me for the next chapter! Hope you enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Six**

The Torchwood SUV barreled through the streets of Cardiff, and Ianto found himself once again reminded of the times when Jack had been with the Doctor. Him and Toshiko in the back seat, his friend at her terminal, trying to find out more about the area they were heading in to, while Ianto himself prepared the weapons they'd need once they got there. Owen and Gwen were in the front seat – they'd picked up Gwen at the police station on their way – and they were bickering like children over Owen's ability to drive.

It was like a severe case of déjà vu. All they'd need was a Blowfish driving a red sports car to complete the picture.

"The area where Hart appeared is leased warehouse space," Toshiko reported. "I'm trying to check into leasing records, to see if anyone's rented anything lately; it might make our search a bit easier."

Ianto quickly checked the clip on the weapon he was holding, halfway listening to what she was saying. Something was niggling at him, and he wanted to concentrate on trying to figure it out.

They all knew it was a trap. After all, Hart had practically invited them to come and find him, when he'd saluted the CCTV camera. He'd known they'd register the Rift spike, and search the area. He knew they'd be coming in, guns blazing, in order to save Jack from whatever it was Hart was doing to him.

They'd all discussed this very thing, as they'd headed to the SUV, bringing Gwen in on the conversation once they'd collected her. Every one of them had come to the same conclusion: if they wanted Jack back, they had to walk into the trap Hart had set up for them.

Ianto knew that Hart wanted Jack. He'd made that perfectly clear during his one and only visit to Cardiff. The only thing more important to Hart was money; Hart had practically bragged about that to Ianto while holding him at gunpoint. So, what was the monetary gain involved with taking Jack prisoner? Or better yet…what did Hart expect to get from leading Torchwood into an obvious trap? Because, if his team was dead Jack wouldn't go anywhere with Hart; instead, he'd most likely kill the bastard.

There had to be another motive.

Of course, Hart was a psychopath. There was no telling what the man had planned. Maybe he was just delusional enough to think Jack _would_ leave with him if there wasn't anything holding him to Earth?

It didn't take long to get where they were going, since Owen was driving. Jack was, of course, worse, but Owen ranked up there; however, there was a really good reason they never let Toshiko behind the wheel, and it didn't have anything to do with her height, despite what Owen said about hating to adjust the seat after her.

Ianto passed out loaded weapons, and then they all left the SUV. It was quiet; there were warehouses on both sides of the street, and a breeze whistled between them, setting Ianto's teeth on edge. None of them knew what they were walking in to, and yet they'd each decided that Jack was worth heading into Hart's obvious trap in order to rescue him.

Toshiko had her PDA out, scanning the area. "There was a new lease taken out on that building," she pointed toward their left, and when Ianto glanced in that direction the CCTV camera on its tall pole was obvious. "Someone rented a partial space inside a week ago. They gave the name Jack Franklin, according to the leasing information I found."

"Using Jack's first name," Owen snorted, "real subtle that."

"But where did Franklin come from?" Gwen asked, holding her gun at the ready.

"Probably made it up," Owen shrugged.

Ianto didn't think so, but he didn't say anything. There were a lot of things they didn't know about their leader, and he was willing to bet it would mean something to Jack.

"Ianto," Owen said, stepping back into the leadership role he'd held while Jack had been gone, "you and Tosh head toward the back. Gwen and I'll take the front."

Together, he and the technician did as Owen bid, their guns out and ready as they made their way toward the rear of the warehouse. They didn't need to say anything; they'd learned that they worked together well, which was the reason Owen had paired them. Ianto toggled on his comm., knowing that Toshiko had done the same. His heartbeat began to speed up, nerves and adrenaline kicking in the closer they got to their goal. When he'd first been headhunted by Torchwood One, never in his wildest dreams had Ianto ever thought he'd become a field agent.

And yet, there he was, rushing in to save his lover from a rather psychotic ex.

Life just didn't go the way he'd planned it, and Ianto found he preferred it that way.

Toshiko still had her PDA out, its soft beeping barely echoing against the metal of the building. He looked at her; she nodded slightly, and Ianto interpreted that to mean she was getting some sort of reading from within the warehouse. That did lend credence to this place being where Hart had gone.

They reached the rear; there was a large dock door nearest them, and beside it a regular-sized door that Ianto tried…and found unlocked.

"Expecting us?" Toshiko whispered, tightening her grip on her weapon.

"It would seem so," he whispered back.

"_Are you in position?"_ Owen's soft voice registered over their comms.

Ianto acknowledged him.

Then, he very carefully opened the door.

Inky blackness and the smell of damp wood met them as they made their way inside. Ianto scrabbled in his pocket for the torch he'd brought with them, knowing that the light would give away their presence but also knowing they'd need it if they weren't expected to trip over their own feet.

The torch beam illuminated their way, Ianto leading and Toshiko watching his back. The warehouse wasn't full by any means, but crates and boxes towered over them as they made their way down one of the many aisles that led deeper into the building. Toshiko had said that Hart had rented only a partial space; they would have to find it, in order to find Jack.

The faint noise that the PDA made seemed louder once they were inside, and Ianto wanted to tell her to turn it off; but then, if their torch wasn't going to give them away, the PDA certainly wouldn't. Still, the place looked and felt completely empty, and despite himself Ianto felt nerves crawling up and down his spine.

Somewhere at the front of the building, Owen and Gwen would be doing the same thing, scanning for any sign of Jack or John Hart. Somewhere, something skittered across concrete and Ianto spun in the direction he thought it was, but his mind was supplying _rat_ even as he was relaxing back into the wariness he'd adopted since setting foot inside.

Toshiko moved closer, putting the scanner in front of his face so he could see the energy reading she was getting. She jerked her chin forward and to the left, and Ianto followed her lead, understanding what the PDA was saying and knowing it had to be where Hart was holding Jack.

As they got closer, Ianto could make out a light coming from that direction, and he clicked off the torch in order to get a better bead on its location. It took his eyes a few seconds to get used to the dimness, and as soon as he was he began to lead the way. The faint beeping the PDA had been making was gone; Toshiko would have put it away, now that they could tell where they were going.

He wondered where Owen and Gwen were, but didn't dare call out to them on the comm., not wanting to draw attention to their presence.

The line of crates he'd been following ended, and Ianto led with his weapon around the corner, as Jack had taught him. There were a line of offices ahead; the light was coming from one of them, and Ianto thought he could hear muted voices coming from within. Once again he glanced at Toshiko, and she nodded in agreement.

A faint scuffing had Ianto spinning on his heel, bringing his gun up. He found himself staring at Owen, who had crept up to their location, Gwen just behind him, her eyes wide in the gloom.

Together, the team made their near-silent way toward the lighted office. The windows that opened out into the warehouse had blinds drawn across them; the light was seeping out from between the slats. Ianto took a deep breath, stopping the sudden urge he had to race inside, knowing that he would most likely only get himself killed that way. But there was a _need_ to save Jack, and it wasn't any stronger than it was in that moment, knowing that he could be just behind that closed door.

Owen made a gesture, pointing toward himself and Gwen, and then toward the office, indicating the solid lower part of the wall. He then pointed to Ianto and Toshiko, and directed them to the wall of the darkened office just next door. Ianto nodded, understanding.

Padding forward far quieter than he should have in his dress shoes, Ianto darted toward the empty office, Toshiko at his back. He could see Owen and Gwen in his peripheral vision, moving toward their designated positions. The glass was a bit cold even through his suit jacket as he rested against it, glancing toward Toshiko to make sure she was where she needed to be, and then back to Owen, who with Gwen was squatting just out of window range.

Owen held up a hand, counting down from three. As he got to one, Ianto reached out and grasped the doorknob in a hand that had suddenly begun to sweat. His heart was racing in his chest as he readied himself for Owen's raised fist.

When it came, he twisted the knob and flung the door open.

What he saw inside the office turned his insides to ice.

The office furniture had all been shoved up against the walls, leaving the middle of the room open. In that space was a gurney, and on that gurney laid their missing boss – and Ianto's missing lover – Jack.

He had a strange sort of helmet over his head, attached goggles over his eyes and his ears covered by curved pieces that fit snuggly down to his jaw line. Jack was strapped down, but he wasn't moving; there was an unnatural slackness in his body that had Ianto wondering if he wasn't dead. Fury overcame whatever fear he'd been feeling, and he walked inside, his gun up and covering the two men who were apparently responsible for Jack being in this shape.

"Don't move," Owen snapped, coming in just behind Ianto. He took one glance at Jack and cursed, but Ianto's attention didn't waver from the pair who was cautiously moving away from Jack's body.

John Hart hadn't changed much; although Ianto thought he looked just a little older than the last time he'd been in Cardiff. He stepped away from his accomplice, his hands raised and away from the guns he wore at his waist. He actually looked pleased to see them.

The other man Ianto didn't know, but there was something a bit familiar about him.

He had short brown hair and light colored eyes, and would have been handsome if it weren't for the fact that his face was screwed up in sheer fury. He was dressed in strange-looking clothing in shades of brown, and a scar ran down the right side of his neck and into his tunic.

Somehow, Ianto knew that this person was even a bigger threat than Hart was.

"Cover them," Owen snapped. He didn't put his gun away, but he did head over to Jack's prone body, as both Toshiko and Gwen entered the office, their own guns up and pointed toward the two men.

"How did you find this place?" the stranger snarled.

His accent made Ianto frown. It was that strange American-that-wasn't-quite-American that Jack had, and even as he was flexing his finger on the trigger his mind was working overtime on trying to identify who this person was.

When it clicked, Ianto felt the breath leave his lungs.

This young man was somehow related to Jack.

"Shit," Owen growled. "Cuff 'em and we'll take them back to the Hub for questioning. We need to get Harkness out of here."

"Can you remove that?" Gwen asked, not taking her eyes from their prisoners even as she reached around to the handcuffs she was carrying.

"Don't know what it is," the medic admitted. "I don't dare do anything until Tosh has had a bash at it."

Behind the young man, Hart was making gestures, and Ianto interpreted them to mean that he knew what it was, but didn't dare say anything.

"I know you all," the stranger shouted. "You're his precious team, and you," he stabbed a finger toward Ianto, as if he hoped to kill him with the digit, "are the key to my revenge!" He looked as if he were going to leap at them at any moment, reason clearly pushed aside for whatever vengeance he wanted to take against Jack.

Ianto didn't react, but he wondered just where this obviously insane person had gotten that idea. Yes, he was in a relationship with Jack, but he didn't pretend that it was anything long-term. He would grow old – or Torchwood would kill him before his time – and that would leave Jack alone. He was well aware that he'd never totally have the captain's heart, and while that hurt he certainly understood it.

Gwen had moved forward, the handcuffs in one hand; she handed her gun to Toshiko in order to have both free. Thus, she was unarmed when the man made to grab her.

Ianto had fired before he'd even realized it.

Blood bloomed on the man's brown tunic, and he stumbled backward, surprise written all over his face. A second bloodstain appeared as well, and he knew that Toshiko had fired at the same time, her aim just as true as Ianto's own. The stranger fell to his knees, as he tried to move his hand toward his wrist.

Ianto moved quickly when he saw the wrist strap there.

Afterward, when asked how he'd managed to get it off before the man could use it, Ianto would have absolutely no clue. All he knew was he suddenly had a handful of Vortex Manipulator, and Jack's kidnapper was on his back, staring up at him with such hate in his eyes that Ianto involuntarily took a step backward.

Then those eyes closed, and the strange young man who resembled Jack took his last breath.

* * *

"That was Jack's brother, Gray."

Ianto turned to regard John Hart. He'd come quietly, which surprised them all considering that he'd had a hand in kidnapping Jack. He was cuffed to a chair in the main Hub; they hadn't wanted to take him down to the cells, wanting to deal with Jack's near-lifeless body first. Jack was currently lying on the table in the autopsy bay, the strange helmet still covering his head.

'_I found Gray.'_

He recalled Hart flinging that phrase toward Jack as the Rift had taken him after the affair with the Arcadian diamond. Jack had stayed mum on just what that had meant, and now it looked as if that silence had come back to bite them all.

And Ianto had been responsible for Gray's death. It was the last thing he wanted to tell Jack.

"What is that thing?" Gwen demanded hotly. "And why did Jack's own brother kidnap him?"

"Gray was nuts," Hart said without remorse. "He went through a horrific time and blamed Jack for it. I tried to help…but he fooled me into thinking that he only wanted to find Jack to reunite with him. And he attached a bomb to me." He looked at Toshiko. "Gorgeous, if you could find your way to figuring out how to get it off, I'd be eternally grateful."

Toshiko snorted. "I'm not sure I want your gratitude." She was busily scanning the device on Jack, frowning at the readings. "This thing is putting off chronometric particles."

"Yep, it does that," Hart answered. "It's a Chronolicron. Party trick, actually, but Gray did something to it."

"What does it do?" Toshiko asked, getting that look in her eyes that spoke of her love of new tech.

"Well, if it were working properly it allows the wearer's mind to travel along their own past timeline and allow them to see through their own younger self's eyes. But Gray messed with it, and now it's showing Jack his future."

"Why his future?" Gwen asked. She was keeping a steady gun on Hart, most likely remembering the last time she'd had to deal with him.

"Cause Gray wanted to know how to destroy it, and thus destroy Jack."

"Can we see what Jack's seeing?" Ianto asked, intrigued.

"You can," Hart admitted, "but I don't recommend it, Eye Candy."

God, he hated when Hart called him that.

"Do you know what it shows?" Gwen inquired.

"I know enough to realize that Jack's never been mine." His eyes turned to Ianto, and there was something in them that made him almost feel sorry for the psychopath.

Almost.

"How do we get it off him?" Owen demanded.

"See, that's the problem," Hart said. "Whatever Gray did to it, it messed it up enough that he couldn't get Jack's mind back in his body. I went into the future to find him – "

"You did?" Toshiko asked. "So he's all right?"

"Just fine, although a bit confused. He's got huge holes in his memory which is explained by the fact that he hasn't actually lived those years yet."

Ianto felt sick. He couldn't imagine Jack being trapped in a place and time he didn't know, with no knowledge of how he got there. And with his immortality, he could literally be any time.

And yet, Gray had claimed to have seen Ianto in that future, which meant it couldn't be that far ahead. Still, it would have been a shock for Jack to suddenly have no idea what had happened.

Toshiko went back to work on scanning the Chronolicron. "The reason we can't get it off probably has to do with the changes that were made to its basic function. How does someone get back from the past?"

"Just taking it off works," Hart said. "But the time Gray tried it, Jack nearly had a stroke. He didn't want to wreak his revenge if his brother didn't know about it because his mind was gone, so he left it on."

"Can you figure it out?" Ianto asked quietly.

Toshiko gave him a confident grin. "Are you kidding? Just watch me."


	7. Chapter 7

Future Dreams, Past Nightmares

Author: Milady Dragon

Disclaimer: Don't own it, sorry.

Author's note: Hello, everyone! Thank you for reading my newest chapter. After this there's just the epilogue, and then this particular adventure will be done. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Jack made his way back into the reception, his mind reeling with what he'd discovered from John. It had to be true; it made too much sense. Normally he wouldn't have believed him, especially about Gray…

The pain he was feeling over that revelation…he didn't want it to be true, but something within him told him it was. Possibly it was the memories of his older self, or something else, but it just _felt_ true. Jack mourned again, for the little brother he'd lost on the shores of Boeshane, and for the hate-fueled young man he'd become.

On such a day of happiness, it was as if a dark cloud had passed over his soul.

Once back inside, his eyes automatically sought out Ianto; his husband was chatting with Martha, and the look of joy on his face made Jack's heart ache in a different way. He needed Ianto in that moment, and he walked up to his husband and tucked his hand around Ianto's elbow, drawing the younger man's attention to him. The smile that Ianto gave him faded as he must have caught Jack's expression. "Are you all right?" he murmured.

Martha echoed it, and while Jack was glad that she was his friend and she cared for him, he really needed to get Ianto alone. "I'm all right," he answered, lying through his teeth. "Would you mind if I borrowed my husband for a second, Martha?"

She wasn't an idiot, and had to have known something was going on, and so she excused herself. Jack steered Ianto away and toward an empty table, where he motioned him to one of the fold-up chairs. Jack took one next to him, turning it so he could look at Ianto directly. "I know what's causing my black-outs and memory loss," he said outright, not wanting to beat around the bush, not with Ianto. Not anymore, despite the feelings of protectiveness that threatened to overwhelm him. He knew that was future-Jack's emotion, and he fought to quell it. Ianto needed to know, despite anything that might have happened in the past. He was a strong person, and it seemed that his future self had set that knowledge aside in order to keep him safe.

"You do?" Ianto looked relieved. He took Jack's hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back. "How do you know? What is it?"

Jack swallowed. "I…just talked to John Hart – "

Understanding bloomed in Ianto's face. "This is the time then?"

Jack rolled his eyes, smirking. "Trust you to know exactly what I'm talking about with the fewest words used possible."

"Well, I _am_ married to you, after all." Ianto sighed. "I'd almost forgotten about the Chronolicron. So…this is your past mind, then? It certainly explains everything." Then he chuckled. "Owen's going to shit when he finds out. He's the one who kept wondering when this was going to happen."

Jack couldn't help but smile. "I probably would have thought of it myself…if I'd remembered it in the first place."

"How could you? This is going on in your present. You don't have anything _to_ remember yet."

That was true. "I don't know how I get back. John said something about my mind being stuck – "

"Don't worry," Ianto said, squeezing his hand. "You'll get back. Although you won't remember much of anything you saw. For the best, really." He turned away, and Jack knew he was trying to hide something.

"Ianto?" Jack pressed, not liking the feeling that knowledge gave him. Now he supposed he knew how Ianto felt, when his future self hid things.

Ianto looked back up, his eyes sad. "It doesn't matter, Jack. I'm sorry, that's all." A smile tried to break onto his face once more. "My Jack just missed his daughter's wedding. Oh, he's not going to like that one bit."

Jack laughed. "Well, there were enough cameras around, I'm sure he'll get the highlights." He wasn't so sure that his future self had missed anything at all, but he couldn't be certain. "Do you know how long it takes to get me back?"

"Toshiko works her magic as usual, and figures it out." Ianto frowned. "I'm surprised you've been here this long, if time flows the same…"

"I don't know if it will. But a really big part of me doesn't want to pass out in the middle of the reception."

"That would be the height of crassness, I agree." With that, Ianto stood, and pulled Jack to his feet. "Dance with me? At least for a while."

"There's no one I'd rather dance with," Jack answered sincerely.

Ianto led him onto the dance floor. Jack took him in his arms, and together they swayed gently to the music. He knew he never wanted to lose this peace, but really, he wouldn't…even if he didn't have it at the current time in his life, he would.

He would just have to be patient.

* * *

Jack awoke slowly, the agony in his head dragging him back to wakefulness with a force that wrenched a moan from his lips. He tried to move, but he could only get his fingers to twitch; nothing else seemed to want to work.

Someone must have heard him, because a familiar voice said, "It's about time you woke up, Harkness. You were beginning to freak out the tea-boy big time."

Jack managed to pry his far-too heavy eyelids apart. A blurry shape hovered just within his vision; it slowly resolved into the sour-looking face of Owen Harper. "What happened?" he asked…or at least tried to, because what came out of his mouth sounded horribly strangled.

Owen must have understood him though, because he said, "You were put into some sort of weird mental time-traveling device. How many fingers do I have up?"

"That's a rude gesture on just about every world in the galaxy."

The medic snorted. "How's the pain?"

"Bad," Jack admitted.

"Not a surprise. Okay, I'm gonna give you some of the good stuff, give your mind a chance to heal. Do you remember anything that happened?"

Jack tried, but there was only a black hole where his memories should have been. He could recall leaving to meet Ianto for dinner…and then nothing. That blankness weighed more than the pain, and he frowned…but even his face hurt, and he gave it up. "Not a thing," he admitted weakly.

"Also not a surprise, from what Hart's said – "

That name sent Jack surging upward, despite the throbbing in his skull. "Hart? What's he doing here?"

"Whoa there." Owen pushed him back down, which wasn't hard. "He's been hanging about and wasting oxygen, in my opinion. But it's a long story, one I'm sure he'll tell you. But now, you need to rest. You've had significant brain trauma, and while you're healing at your normal crazy rate you still can't just jump up and flounce about – "

"I don't flounce!" Jack denied hotly…well, as hotly as he could with a head full of pain.

"Yeah, whatever. You stay down and when you're able to get up we'll let you in on what happened. And yes, Ianto…you can come down and sit with him," he said without looking away from what he was doing. "Your hovering is driving me nuts."

"Short drive, then," Ianto's dry tones responded, and he came into Jack's line of sight, smiling slightly. "You're looking better," he commented as he made his way to the side of the table.

"Hey," Jack said, "I always look good!"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Of course you do, Sir."

"Get some rest, Harkness," Owen ordered. "No flirting with the tea-boy until you're better."

Jack pouted. "You're no fun."

"Damned right. Now, listen to your doctor, and try to go back to sleep if you can. I'm off to share my test results with Tosh, who only loves me for me data." With that, Owen was gone, leaving Jack alone with Ianto.

"Are you going to at least tell me what happened?" Jack asked plaintively, wanting to know how he'd ended up in the autopsy bay instead of at their favorite Italian restaurant.

But whatever Owen had put into the IV that was currently taped to the back of his hand was beginning to have effect, and his eyelids began to droop.

He didn't miss the flash of pain in Ianto's eyes, though. He just didn't have a chance to ask about it before the world went dark.

* * *

Jack stood next to the drawer that held the body of his brother, wanting to cry but not being able to.

He'd awakened the second time feeling much better. Ianto had been gone, and that had disappointed Jack more than he wanted to admit. But Toshiko had been sitting next to him, and her glad smile was enough to warm him a little.

Owen had checked him over, and had declared him fit. Jack had called a meeting in the boardroom, where the entire story had come out…including the part his brother had played in it. They'd brought John up from the cells, and he'd explained how he'd found Gray, and how he'd been taken in by him. He showed off the bandages on his arm from where the Vortex Manipulator had been bonded; Toshiko had found a way to remove it, using the wrist strap Gray had been wearing.

Jack had also learned just what had happened to Gray

Ianto looked upset when it came out, but Toshiko had been defiant, claiming that they'd shot Gray to protect Gwen. Jack had felt the news like a punch in the gut; his own brother had kidnapped him, stuck him in an alien device in order to find out what was important to him in order to destroy him, and had tried to hurt a member of his team. What had happened to the boy who'd hero-worshipped his older brother? How had he become so warped?

And so, after the meeting Jack had retreated to the morgue, where he was currently staring down at the peaceful face of his brother. Gray had grown up; Jack could still see his brother in the slack features, but they'd been tempered by horrors that only Gray would have been able to tell.

Jack could only blame himself; if he hadn't let go of Gray's hand, this would never have happened. He couldn't find it in himself to put any of it on either Ianto or Toshiko, because they'd only done what needed to be done to protect their teammates. No, this was all on him, and he'd have to live with it for eternity.

"Are you gonna mope down here all day?"

Jack turned to regard John, who was standing on the walkway, hands in his pockets. He was angry at the interruption. "What I do isn't any of your business, John," he snapped.

"You're right," John admitted. "It isn't. But while you're down here, there's someone upstairs who thinks you blame him for putting Gray in that box."

He felt guilty about that; he hadn't said anything to Ianto after the meeting, and he hadn't absolved Ianto of any responsibility in his brother's death. All Jack had wanted to do was mourn for a while, before becoming the Captain of Torchwood once more. "No, it's not his fault," Jack sighed. "It's mine."

"Sweet Goddess, you and your need to be a bloody martyr!"

There was something a bit familiar about that comment, and Jack felt the shiver of déjà vu flutter through him. He shrugged it off. "I let Gray get captured – "

"You were a kid, Jack. A kid too young for that kinda responsibility. Your dad should never have done that to you. There was nothing you could do."

In a way, he knew Hart was right. He'd been too young really to have protected Gray, but his father had made him promise not to let go…and he had. "Perhaps," he conceded. "That doesn't make this feel any better."

"No, I'm sure it doesn't. But you have people who'll help you mourn, if you let them."

Jack looked at him askance. "Who are you, and what have you done to my ex-partner?"

Hart barked out a laugh. "He's realized that we never had a chance, but would still like to at least try to be friends. That might not be possible, but I'd like to make the attempt." He sighed. "I'm sorry for my part in this. I really had no idea what Gray was up to, and by the time I did it was too late. But I did try to help, as much as I could. Maybe someday you'll know that."

"Maybe." Jack slowly slid the drawer closed, locking his brother away forever. "But right now…"

"Yeah, I getcha. But Jack…tell Eye Candy – Ianto – that you don't blame him. He needs to hear it." With those parting words, John Hart walked away, leaving Jack in peace.

Jack squared his shoulders, then after a few moments he followed.

He needed to talk to Ianto.


	8. Chapter 8

Future Dreams, Past Nightmares

Author: Milady Dragon

Disclaimer: Not mine. I think I shall pout about that for a bit.

Author's note: And here we are, at the end of this story. Thanks again to everyone reading and reviewing and such, I appreciate it! Now, on to the end.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Jack awoke and stretched, reaching toward his husband's side of the bed…

To find it empty.

He sat up quickly, immediately regretting the action as his head began to throb in time with his heartbeat. He immediately vowed never to go out drinking with Owen again, because he really hated the hangover…

"Glad to see you're awake."

Jack's eyes found Ianto; he was leaning against the foot of the bed, looking undeniably sexy in a somewhat rumpled tuxedo, a red and silver embroidered waistcoat hanging open to reveal a white shirt, and a matching tie that had been undone and was lying against the brightness of the button-down.

He was wearing his wedding tux.

Jack frowned. Why was Ianto dressed like that?

"What do you remember?" Ianto asked, coming to sit beside Jack on the bed and taking his hand.

"I remember going out with Owen, and giving Rhodri my fatherly speech about hurting Mairwen…" his voice faded away as his mind was suddenly flooded with images of what had gone on yesterday. "The Chronolicron!" he exclaimed, then immediately wishing he hadn't as his head warned him to be quiet from now on.

"Yep," his husband affirmed. "I'd almost forgotten about it, because I always thought we'd somehow changed the future when you became mortal. I'd always believed that you could have ended up somewhere…anywhere…in space and time."

Jack reached out and cupped Ianto's face, and his husband leaned into the touch. "It's over now," he said. "At least we don't have to worry about it."

"How are you feeling?"

"I have a bit of a headache," Jack confessed. "But I think I'm going to be just fine."

"Glad to hear it, big boy."

Both men turned in the direction of the voice. John Hart stood in the entrance to their bedroom, looking mighty pleased with himself. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Ianto demanded.

"I did knock!" Hart answered. "But there wasn't any answer."

"That should've told you right then that we didn't want to see anyone."

"Cut it out, you two," Jack said, not wanting a screaming match over his aching body. "John, thanks for what you did back then. I appreciate it."

"No problem," the former Time Agent replied. "I'm just glad it turned out all right."

They hadn't seen Hart since the day he'd left the Hub for parts unknown, and Jack couldn't say he'd missed the man at all. But he did owe him for trying to help, and for kicking him just that little bit in the arse about talking to Ianto. That conversation had eventually led them to where they were now.

"Well, I just wanted to stop in and see how things were," Hart said into the uncomfortable silence. "I'll be heading out now; got a lovely lady in Paris waiting for me. You two take care of each other, yeah?" He turned to leave.

"John, wait."

He looked back at Jack's call.

"Maybe we can try that whole friends thing?"

A smile graced Hart's sharp features. "Yeah, I'd like that. See ya both later."

Once Hart was gone, Ianto gave Jack a disbelieving look. "You can't honestly be thinking of being his friend, are you?"

Jack shrugged. "He did help. It wasn't his fault that Gray used him. And he made it right in the end."

Ianto nodded, conceding the point. "But if he offers another orgy…"

"No way." Jack tugged him forward, so that Ianto lay beside him. "I don't share anymore, and he knows that."

"Good, because I'd hate to have to shoot him in a delicate place."

Jack laughed, pulling Ianto closer. As his eyelids grew heavy, he realized just how lucky he'd been in his life.

This was his future, and he had everything he'd always wanted.

No more past nightmares.

_Fin_


End file.
